


Unusual Find

by demi_gray



Category: Henry Stickmin Series (Video Games)
Genre: Abuse, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Gun Violence, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mild Language, Other, Pre-Canon, Rescue, Shooting, adoption (kinda), carol mom powers, dadford, toppat clan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/demi_gray/pseuds/demi_gray
Summary: An impromptu rescue of a child that might as well be an orphan wasn't on the Toppat itinerary today, but what the hell. Not like anyone was going to argue with Cross about it.(Read the tags well please! Potentially triggering content.)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 38





	Unusual Find

**Author's Note:**

> inspiration struck for sven backstory moments

One of the largest crime lords in the Swedish country.

And the Chief wanted him.

Or, rather, his money.

Steal his information and maybe a bit of paper money. In and out.

Top operatives Cross, Macbeth and Ivy were on the case. They were known to get the job done.

So that's what they planned to do as they softly snuck through a window and set to locate the computer and filing cabinets.

Macbeth was technically in charge of the mission, but Carol usually took over anyway. He was fine with that. She directed the two others to follow her, and they stalked through the home.

The living room was stupidly large with at least three couches and the biggest TV the three of them had ever seen; not even the Chief’s was as large as this. Matilda quietly jotted down the model and maker.

Suddenly there was a rattling from the end of the room, and the Toppats froze. Carol jerked her head towards the sound, eyeing Macbeth, and he nodded, taking out his rifle and approaching the corner. More shuffling and soft rattling as he made his way closer; through the dark he made out what it was.

“Just a dog,” Macbeth sighed. “In a cage.”

“Not even barking?” Carol inquired suspiciously. She and Matilda stepped past Macbeth to peer through the crate’s lattice. Carol procured a small lightstick from under her hat and shone it into the darkness.

It was not a dog.

A small child with a shock of blonde hair that had been recently cropped short with something clearly not meant for hair cowered in the back of the cage. They pressed themself against the metal, rattling the cage quietly.

“Now that isn't something you see every day,” Matilda muttered.

“This is not right,” Carol seethed, placing the lightstick gently on the floor and sitting down. “Cover me a minute,” she ordered without regard for her position, glaring at the lock on the cage.

“Right now?” Macbeth asked incredulously, apprehensively sweeping the dim room. “We don't have time for this!”

“Make some!” she snapped softly.

Matilda stood and put a hand on Macbeth’s shoulder. “Just do what she says,” she whispered. “She’ll be quick and we’ll be out of here.”

Macbeth huffed, glancing to the dark haired young woman on the floor. Carol was concentrated, hairpin  _ click _ ing at the lock. The child was breathing heavily, whimpering and putting a dingy pillow in between themself and the cage door. “Shh,” Carol murmured, smiling softly, although she was unsure it could be seen. “It’s ok. I’m going to get you out of here.”

“English?” the child whimpered to themself in a thick accent, eyes wide. “Don't hurt me,” they said a little louder.

“Now why would I do that?” Carol asked, perhaps a little too disgustedly, as the kid cowered again. “No, I'm not going to hurt you, dear,” she continued, more gently. “What's your name? I’m Carol.”

The kid hummed in hesitation, then said, oh-so-quietly, “Djävul.”

“Djävul. It’s nice to meet you, dear.” The lock snapped open and Carol tossed it to the side, undoing the clasps of the cage and opening it. “It’s gonna be ok. Are you okay?”

Djävul clutched the pillow. “...hungry.”

“Come here. We’ll get you out of this house, all right?”

More hesitation from the child.

“It's ok. We need to go before your parents wake up, you know?”

A small nod. Djävul crawled to the front of the cage and took Carol’s hand, shaking.

There was a bang from behind them, and all four jumped.

The lights turned on. The cock of a gun. “Who the hell are you?!”

Matilda gasping. Two more guns readied.

“Ey!”

Carol did not turn around; in one movement she swept a gun of her own into the open and aimed behind her, firing off two shots without looking.

A yell of pain, and the largest crime lord in Sweden collapsed to the floor.

Macbeth and Matilda lowered their firearms. “Carol—” the former tried, but Carol stood with a growl, trembling Djävul tight in her free arm. 

“Bastard deserved it,” she snapped. “Let’s just get what we came for and get the hell out of here.”

“I didn't tell you to assassinate him!” Sir Wilford roared. Macbeth and Matilda flinched, but Carol did not even blink. “Sure, you got his info, but goddamnit!” He glared. “Which one of you took the shot?!”

The M’s eyes flicked towards Carol in betrayal, and she crossed her arms, glaring right back at the Chief.

“Cross,” Wilford confronted with deadly calmness. “You are not known for this type of conduct.”

“I know.”

Wilford glared harder, good eye piercing through Carol’s guard only slightly.

“ _ Sir _ .”

“Why did you do it?”

Carol growled, though not at the Chief. “The guy was keeping his kid in a  _ damn _ dog cage. S-Sir.”

Wilford was silent a moment, puffing smoke. Then he sighed finally, pinching his brow and turning to the side. “Elaborate.”

“We got to the house and got inside without a hitch. We heard some noise, and Macbeth located a dog crate. There was a little kid inside. Couldn't be more than four or five, Sir.” Carol shot a glance into the crowd, Djävul hiding behind one Albert Poshley. “They were clearly neglected. Abused. When the target came into the room after somehow being alerted to our presence, I...I did not hesitate.”

Wilford was quiet again before saying, “What did you do with the kid?”

Carol shuffled. “...brought them with us.”

An expectant look from the Chief.

She sighed, looking to the child again, then Matilda. Matilda hurried over and retrieved Djävul from behind Poshley, half-dragging him over as he was clearly afraid of the Chief and his yelling.

Wilford’s gaze was surprisingly sympathetic. He put his hands on his hips and looked down on the little blond child. “What’s your name?” he asked finally.

The child trembled. “D-Djävul.”

Wilford blinked, brow raised. “That’s what they called you?”

“Y-yes, Sir. Liten Djävul.”

“Little Devil,” Wilford muttered, breaking gaze, hand on his forehead so high it pushed back on his top hats. “That ain't a name, that's...” He turned to Carol. “You're free of consequences, Cross. It’s pretty clear to me our target was no family man.”

Carol was shocked, taking a literal step back. “O-Oh.”

“And you!” Wilford snapped to the kid. “You’re getting a proper name! No Toppat child is going to be called an insult on this airship!!”

The kid nodded hurriedly, shrinking away.

“Cross, since you seem to like ‘em so much, you’re in charge. Get that wuss Reginald to help you or something,” Wilford told her dismissively. “Now get out! I’m not gonna let you off so easily like this every time.”

“Y-yes, Sir!!” Carol stammered, scooping the currently unnamed blonde child into her arms and running off. At the glare of Sir Wilford the IV, Macbeth and Matilda scurried away as well.

“Back to work!” yelled the Chief. “And shut your mouths!”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope you liked!! I don't really have a specific timeline for when this takes place, but use your imagination.


End file.
